THE  BOYS  OF 

THE  OLD 
LGLEE  CLVB 


\9 


# 

University  of  California  •  Berkeley 

Gift  of 
THE  HEARST  CORPORATION 


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_~  (J  _ 


THE  BOYv5  OF 
THE  OLD 
GLEE  CLVB 


By  JAMES  VHtTOCMB  RILEY 


/INDIANAPOLIS! 


THE  BCBBWfflRRBL  (DIMNY 


COPYRIGHT  1907 
JAMES  WHITCOMB  RILEY 


NOVEMBER 


BYWL-MWTER 


LIST  OF 


Then  Th'  Old  Glee 
Club  marched  out  to  victory  ! — Frontispiece 


Politics  was  runnin'  high 


Burgess  Brown's  friends  all  'low 
He  is  'most  as  lively  now 


Prompt  on  time  to  vote  at  home  I 


Er  sometimes  jest  set  and  talk 
'  Bout  old  times  back  here — 


He  says,  "Course  I'm  bald  a  bit' 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


— ever  one — 
Love d  to  love  Will  Tarkington ! 

And  a  Brass,  and  Sheepskin  Band 


Heerd  high  'bove  the  hoarsest  roar 
O'  any  storm  on  sea  er  shore ! 


Time's  be'n  clockin'  on,  you  know ! 


Campaign  work  and  jubilees 
To  wake  up  the  primaries 


M  ah  Ion  Butler  he  come  past 
My  shop 

6 — Thank  God,  they're  singing  yet! 


ooo 


CT  T  7" 
LV. 


o    = 


70  [/-folks  rickollect,  I  know- 
Tain't  so  very  long  ago— 
Th'  Old  Glee  Club— was  got  up  here 
'Bout  first  term  Grant  tuk  the  Cheer 
Per  President  four  year — and  then 
Riz_and  tuk  the  thing  again! 


Politics  was  runnin'  high, 
And  the  Soldiers  mighty  nigh 
Swep'  the  Country — 'bout  on  par 
With  their  rickord  through  the  War. 
Glee  Club,  mainly,  Soldiers,  too — 
Most  the  Boys  had  wore  the  blue, — 
So  their  singin'  had  the  swing — 
Kindo'-sorto'  Shiloh-ring, 
Don't  you  know,  'at  kindo'  got 
Clean  inside  a  man  and  shot 
Telegrams  o'  joy  dee-vine 
Up  and  down  his  mortal  spine! 


They  was  jest  boys  then,  all  young — 
And  'bout  lively  as  they  sung! 
Now  they  hain't  young  anymore — 
('Less  the  ones  'at's  gone  before 
'S  got  their  youth  back,  glad  and  free 
'N'  keerless  as  they  used  to  be!) 
Burgess  Brown's  old  friends  all  'low 
He  is  'most  as  lively  now, 
And  as  full  o'  music,  too, 
As  when  Old  Glee  Club  was  new! 
And  John  Blake,  you  mind,  'at  had 
The  near-sightedness  so  bad, 
When  he  sung  by  note,  the  rest 
Read  'em  fer  him,  er  he  guessed 
How  they  run — and  sung  'em,  too, 
Clair  and  sweet  as  honey-dew! 


1 


Harry  Adams  's  here — and  he's 

Jollyin'  ever'  man  he  sees 

'At  complains  o'  gittin'  gray 

Er  a-fl££in'  anyway. 

Harry  he  jest  thrives  on  fun— 

"Troubles?"  he  says, — "Nary  one!— 

Got  gran'-childern  I  can  play 

And  keep  young  with,  night  and  dayT 

Then  there's  Ozzy  Weaver — he's 

Kickin',  lively  as  you  please, — 

'N'  Dearie  Macy. — Called  'em  then 

"The  Cherubs."   Sung  "We  are  two  Men 

O'  th'  Olden  Time."  Well!  their  duets 

Was  jest  sweet  as  violets ! 


k> 


And  Dan  Ransdell — he's  still  here — 

Not  jest  in  the  town,  but  near 

Enough,  you  bet,  to  allus  come 

Prompt'  on  time  to  vote  at  home! 

Dan  he's  be'n  in  Washington 

Sence  he  went  with  Harrison.    .    .    . 

And  John  Slauson — (Boys  called  John 

"Sloppy  Weather.")— he  went  on 

Once  to  Washington ;  and  Dan 

Intertained  him : — Ever'  man, 

From  the  President,  to  all 

Other  big-guns  Dan  could  haul 

In  posish  'ud  have  to  shake 

Hands  with  John  fer  old  times'  sake. 


V 


i 


And  to  hear  /o/zra,  when  he  got 
Home  again,  w'y,  you'd  a-caught 
His  own  spent  and  dry  fun 
And  mis-chieve-y-ousness  'at  run 
Through  his  talk  of  all  he  see : — 
"Ruther  pokey  there,  fer  me" 
John  says, — "though,  of  course,  I  met 
Mostly  jest  the  Cabinet 
Members;  and  the  President 
He'd  drop  round :  and  then  we  went 
Incogg  fer  a  quiet  walk — 
Er  sometimes  jest  set  and  talk 
'Bout  old  times  back  here — and  how 
All  you-boys  was  doin'  now, 
And  Old  Glee  Club  songs ;  and  then 
He'd  say,  'f  he  could,  once  again, 
Jest  hear  us — 'once  more'  says  he,— 
Td  shed  Washington,  D.  C, 
And  jest  fall  in  ranks  with  you 
And  march  home,  a-singin',  too!'  " 


w. 


And  Bob  Gtiger — Now  lives  down 
At  Atlanty, — but  this  town 
'S  got  Bob's  heart — a  permanent 
And  time-honored  resident. 
Then  there's  Mahlon  Butler — still 
Lookin'  like  he  allus  will ! 
"How  you  feelin'P"  s'l,  last  time 
I  see  Mahlon :  'N'  he  says,  "I'm 
'Feelin'?' "  says,  "so  peert  and  gay 
'F  I's  hitched  up  I'd  run  away!" 
He  says,  "Course  I'm  bald  a  bit, 
But  not  'nough  to  brag  on  it 
Like  Dave  Wallace  does,"  he  says, 
"With  his  two  shamef acetedness !" 
(Dave  jest  laughs  and  lifts  his  "dice" 
At  the  joke,  and  blushes — twice.) 


j 


And  Ed.  Thompson,  he's  gone  on — 
They's  a  whole  quartette  'at's  gone — 
Yes,  a  whole  quartette,  and  more, 
Has  crossed  on  the  Other  Shore.    .    .    . 
Sabold  and  Doc  Wood'ard's  gone — 
'N'  Ward;  and— last,— Will  Tarkington, 
Ward  'at  made  an  Irish  bull 
Actchully  jest  beautiful  !— 
"  'Big-nose  Ben,'  "  says  Ward,  "I  s'pose, 
Makes  an  eyesore  of  his  nose!" 
And  Will  Tarkington—Ef  he 
Ever  had  an  inemy, 
The  Good  Bein's  plans  has  be'n 
Tampered  with! — because  all  men, 
Women  and  childern— ever'  one— 
Loved  to  love  Will  Tarkington! 


\ 


The  last  time  I  heerd  'em  all 
Was  at  Tomilsonian  Hall, 
As  I  rickollect — and  know  — 
Must  be'n  fifteen  year'  ago!— 
Big  Mass  Meetin' — thousands  here.    . 
Old  Dick  Thompson  in  the  Cheer 
On  the  stage — and  three  er  four 
Other  "Silver-Tongues"  er  more!    .    . 
Mind  Ben  Harrison. — Clean,  rich, 
Ringin'  voice — "  'bout  concert-pitch," 
Tarkington  he  called  it,  and 
Said  its  music  'clipsed  the  band 
And  Glee  Club  both  rolled  in  one  !— 
('Course  you  all  knowed  Harrison!) 


Yes,  and  Old  Flag,  streamin'  clean 
From  the  high  arch  'bove  the  scene 
And  each  side  the  Speaker's  stand. — 
And  a  Brass,  and  Sheepskin  Band, 
('Twixt  the  speeches  'at  was  made) 
'At  cut  loose  and  banged  and  played — 
S'pose,  to  have  the  noise  all  through 
So's  th'  crowd  could  listen  to 
Some  real  music ! — Then  Th'  Old  Glee 
Club  marched  out  to  victory! — 
And  sich  singin' ! — Boys  was  jest 
At  their  very  level-best!    .     .     . 
My!  to  hear  'em! — From  old  "Red- 
White-and-Blue,"  to  "Uncle  Ned"!- 
From  "The  Sword  of  Bunker  Hill," 
To  "Billy  Magee-Magaw"!— And— still 
The  more  they  sung,  the  more,  you  know, 
The  crowd  jest  wouldn't  let  'em  go! — 
Till  they  reached  the  final  notch 
O'  glory  with  old  "Larboard  Watch!" 


O'  any  storm  on  sea  er  shore ! 


Well !  that  song's  a  song  my  soul 

Jest  swings  off  in,  past  control! — 

Allus  did  and  allus  will 

Lift  me  clair  of  earthly  ill 

And  interrogance  and  doubt 

O'  what  the  good  Lord's  workin'  out 

Anyway  er  anyhow!    .    .    . 

Shet  my  eyes  and  hear  it  now! — 

Till,  at  night,  that  ship  and  sea 

And  wet  waves  jest  wallers  me 

Into  that  same  sad  yet  glad 

Certainty  the  Sailor  had 

When  waked  to  his  watch  and  ward 

By  th'  lone  whisper  of  the  Lord — 

Heerd  high  'bove  the  hoarsest  roar 


Time's  be'n  clockin'  on,  you  know! 

Sabold,  who  was  first  to  go, 

Died  back  East,  in  ninety-three, 

At  his  old  home,  Albany: 

Ward  was  next  to  leave  us — Died 

New  York  .  .  .  How  we've  laughed  and  crie< 

Both  together  at  them  two 

Friends  and  comards  tried  and  true! — 

Ner  they  wasn't,  when  they  died, 

Parted  long — 'most  side-by-side 

They  went  singin',  you  might  say, 

Till  their  voices  died  away 

Kindo'  into  a  duet 

O'  silence  they're  rehearsin'  yet. 


Old  Glee  Club's  be'n  meetin'  less 
And  less  frequenter,  I  guess, 
Sence  so  many's  had  to  go — 
And  the  rest  all  miss  'em  so! 
Still  they's  calls  they'  got  to  make, 
Fer  old  reputation's  sake, 
So  to  speak;  but,  'course,  they  all 
Can't  jest  answer  ever'  call — 
'Ceptin'  Christmas-times,  er  when 
Charity  calls  on  'em  then ; 
And — not  chargin'  anything — 
W'y,  the  Boys 's  jest  got  to  sing! 


Campaign  work,  and  jubilees 
To  wake  up  the  primaries; 
Loyal  Legions — G.  A.  R.'s — 
Big  Reunions — Stripes-and-Stars 
Fer  School-houses  ever'where — 
And  Church-doin's,  here  and  there- 
And  Me-morial  Meetin's,  when 
Our  War-Gov'ner  lives  again ! 
Yes,  and  Decoration  Days — 
Martial  music — prayers  and  praise 
Fer  the  Boys  'at  marched  away 
So's  we  'd  have  a  place  to  stay!     . 
Little  childern,  'mongst  the  flowers, 
Learnin'  'bout  this  Land  of  Ours, 
And  the  price  these  Soldiers  paid, 
Gethered  in  their  last  parade.    .    . 


0  that  sweetest,  saddest  sound ! — 
"Tenting  on  the  old  Campground."    .    .    . 
The  Old  Glee  Club— singin'  so 
Quaverin'-like  and  soft  and  low, 

Ever'  listener  in  the  crowd 

Sings  in  whispers — but,  out  'loud, 

Sings  as  ef  he  didn't  keer — 

Not  fer  nothin'l    ....    Ketch  me  here 

Whilse  I'm  honest,  and  I'll  say 

God's  way  is  the  only  way!    .    .    . 

So  I'  allus  felt,  i  jing! 

Ever'  time  the  Boys  'ud  sing 

'Bout  "A  Thousand  Years,  my  Own 

Columbia!" — er  "The  Joys  we've  Known 

"Hear  dem  Bells"— er  "Hi-lo,  Hail!"— 

1  have  felt  God  must  prevail — 


7 


Jest  like  ever'  boy  'at's  gone 
Of  'em  all,  whilse  he  was  on 
Deck  here  with  us,  seemed  to  be 
Livin',  laughin'  proof,  to  me, 
Of  Eternal  Life — No  more 
Will  than  them  all,  gone  before !    . 
Can't  I — many-a-time — jest  see 
Them  all,  like  they  used  to  be ! — 
Tarkington,  fer  instance,  clean 
Outside  o'  the  man  you  seen, 
Singin' — till  not  only  you 
Heerd  his  voice  but  felt  it,  too, 
In  back  of  the  bench  you  set 
In — And  'most  can  feel  it  yet! 
Yes,  and  Will's  the  last  o'  five 
Now  that's  dead — yet  still  alive, 
True  as  Holy  Writ's  own  word 
Has  be'n  spoke  and  man  has  heerd! 


Them  was  left  when  Will  went  on 
Has  met  once  sence  he  was  gone — 
Met  jest  once — but  not  to  sing 
Ner  to  practice  anything. — 
Facts  is,  they  jest  didn't  know 
Why  they  was  a-meetin'  so ; — 
But  John  Brush  he  had  it  done 
And  invited  ever'  one 
Of  'em  he  could  find,  to  call 
At  his  office,  Music  Hall, 
Four  o'clock — one  Saturd'y 
Afternoon. — And  this  was  three 
Er  four  weeks,  mind,  sence  the  day 
We  had  laid  poor  Will  away. 


7 


Mahlon  Butler  he  come  past 

My  shop,  and  I  dropped  my  last 

And  went  with  him,  wonder'n',  too, 

What  new  joke  Brush  had  in  view; — 

But,  when  all  got  there,  and  one- 

By-one  was  give'  a  seat,  and  none 

O'  Brush's  twinkles  seemed  in  sight, 

'N'  he  looked  biz  all  right,  all  right, — 

We  saw — when  he'd  locked  the  door — 

What  some  of  us,  years  before, 

Had  seen,  and  long  sence  fergot — 

(Seen  but  not  heerd,  like  as  not.)  — 

How  Brush,  once  when  Admiral  Brown 

'S  back  here  in  his  old  home-town 

And  flags  ever'wheres — and  Old 

Glee  Club  tellin'  George  to  "Hold 

The  Fort!"  and  "We"  would  "make  'em  flee 

By  land  and  sea,"  etcetery, — 


-S».« 

-^•^ 


!& 


How  Brush  had  got  the  Boys  to  sing 

A  song  in  that-there  very  thing 

Was  on  the  table  there  to-day — 

Some  kind  o'  ''phone,  you  know. — But  say! 

When  John  touched  it  off,  and  we 

Heerd  it  singin' — No-sir-ee! — 

Not  the  machine  a-singin' — No, — 

Th'  Old  Glee  Club  o' long  ago!    .    .    . 

There  was  Sab  old's  voice  again — 

'N'  Ward's; — and,  sweet  as  summer-rain, 

With  glad  boy-laughture's  trills  and  runs, 

Ed.  Thompson's  voice  and  Tarkington's/  . 


And  ah,  to  hear  them,  through  the  storm 
Of  joy  that  swayed  each  listener's  form — 
Seeming  to  call,  with  hail  and  cheer, 
From  Heaven's  high  seas  down  to  us  here : — > 
"But  who  can  speak  the  joy  he  feels 
While  o'er  the  foam  his  vessel  reels, 
And  his  tired  eyelids  slumbering  fall, 
He  rouses  at  the  welcome  call 
Of  'Larboard  Watch,  Ahoy!'  " 

And  O 

To  hear  them — same  as  long  ago — 
The  listeners  whispered,  still  as  death, 
With  trembling  lips  and  broken  breath, 
As  with  one  voice — and  eyes  all  wet, — 
"GOD!— God!—  Thank   God,  they're  singln 
yet!" 


PS  2-Jo 


